Mountain flying demands skill
For pilots, Idaho backcountry can be a killer
By PAT MURPHY
Express Staff Writer
A light aircraft takes off from a remote mountain strip in Idaho?s backcountry. Photo by Lori MacNichol
|
|
The afternoon of July 25, 1997, was warm, even in Idaho?s mountainous backcountry, as one of the nation?s most experienced mountain and canyon flying instructors and a student pilot from California approached the 1,900-foot Root Ranch air strip.
With the aircraft?s student-owner at the controls, the Cessna 182G?s speed was slowed with the help of 10 degrees flaps and reduced power, descending to 100 to 150 feet above the 5,650 foot-altitude strip long enough for the pilot to drop a plastic bag with cookies and a birthday card for someone on the ground.
Then, adding full power, the pilot attempted to regain altitude and leave the area. But the aircraft veered sharply, hit tree tops some 1,400 feet from the end of the runway and went into a steep, fatal dive, killing the pilot and instructor in an inferno of flames.
In its November 1998 final report, the National Transportation Safety Board ascribed the accident to ?the flight crew's failure to maintain clearance from trees. A factor was trees north of the departure end of the airstrip.?
The moral of this tragedy is that mountain flying accidents don?t discriminate: the fatally injured instructor, Lyn Clark, 62, had 18,000 hours of flight time and a reputation for caution and safety and special expertise in operating from unimproved backcountry air strips.
Among pilots everywhere, Idaho?s 4.5 million acres of designated mountain wilderness and another 9 million acres of untamed backcountry are known for breathtaking scenery ?- but also special peril for pilots unfamiliar with, and untrained in, operating from short strips at high altitudes and in restricted spaces.
Enter Lori MacNichol, owner of McCall Mountain Canyon Flying. The fatally injured pilot in the 1997 Root Ranch crash was MacNichols?s business partner.
MacNichol and the mountain flying courses taught by her 11 instructors are regarded as the best in the field. So much so that as many as 150 pilots from throughout the nation and abroad show up each summer for a $1,500 course to provide them with the competence and confidence to fly into chancy strips.
The course, MacNichol explains, includes nine hours of dual flight instruction and 14 hours of ground school. She also offers a tougher advanced course at Sulphur Creek Lodge, 25 miles northwest of Stanley, that is accessible only by foot or aircraft.
The courses aren?t for novices, however. MacNichol requires registrants to have at least 250 hours as pilots in command and, if using their own planes for instruction, their aircraft are required to have engines with at least 200 horsepower. The flying service also has aircraft to rent.
MacNichol, 47, who?s been flying the backcountry since 1982 and has 7,000 hours flight time, calls Idaho ?a sleeper? adventure for pilots seeking fun and challenge. The state has at least 55 backcountry airstrips, virtually all of them built by state or federal agencies, in every conceivable type of terrain, differing lengths, various altitudes, an array of closed-end canyons.
Some pilots simply seek the challenge of landing and taking off from remote, risky, unimproved earthen strips, while others fly into the isolated areas for recreation and relaxation. A common sight is pilots pitching tents beside their aircraft or sleeping under the wings.
MacNichol?s courses cover a wide range of topics indispensable in flying into mountain fields, including a sweeping historic review of backcountry flying by one of the state?s veteran and oldest still-active pilots, 83-year-old Jim Larkin.
The essence of the instruction, she says, is hammering at basics about mountain flying--that high temperatures at high altitudes can drastically degrade aircraft wing lift and engine performance, and that phenomenon combined with a short strip in a narrow mountainous canyon can lead to disaster if a pilot disregards speed and handling techniques of getting in and out of tight spots.
?People get into trouble in confined canyons,? she says. One of the most frequent surprise reactions among students is learning to manage their aircraft speed. Most commonly heard, she says, is ?Wow! I didn?t know I needed to slow down that much.?
According to aviation accident statistics of the Idaho Transportation Department, the year 2003 saw a record 52 aircraft accidents with 21 fatalities.
As if deadly confirmation of the need for special training, five of the fatalities involved out-of-state pilots with eight of the fatalities in backcountry. Four of the fatalities involved a combination of out-of-state pilots in the backcountry.
MacNichol said she avoids using the common pilot phrase of ?go around?--that is, aborting a landing approach and going around for another attempt, because of excessive speed or altitude. In mountain flying, she says, landing on the first attempt is imperative.
Even crossing a creek during a routine approach to an airstrip can cause a momentary increase in the aircraft?s sink rate.
Not all backcountry strips are in canyons or among peaks. The state-maintained 4,900-foot turf landing strip at Smiley Creek, some 30 miles north of Ketchum, is in a vast meadow with plenty of maneuvering room. However, with the strip located at an altitude of 7,160 and on a slight slope, pilots are warned in a Federal Aviation Administration advisory that ?extremely high density altitude conditions exist during the summer months?--the tip-off that air-craft performance can deteriorate as the day goes on and temperatures increase.
Pilots who take the course are considered less risky by insurance companies and get discounts on their policies, MacNichol said, adding that Flight Safety International, a global firm with 42 training facilities, has approved her school. She also has trained pilots for the Border Patrol and Customs Service, and is a certified safety counselor for the Federal Aviation Administration.
However, MacNichol?s piloting skills aren?t confined only to slow flight in the backcountry. During the winter, she periodically flies as co-pilot on a Citation jet out of Hailey?s Friedman Memorial Airport for a charter service.
One of the most indispensable tools for pilots flying into Idaho?s rugged backcountry strips is the book, ?Fly Idaho!? by pilot-author Glen Hanselman, of Hailey. The book contains photos, maps and airport data for all the state?s backcountry strips. Hanselman also has written ?Air Baja? and ?Fly the Big Sky,? which is about Montana flying. The three books have sold about 20,000 copies. He?s now writing a book about Utah airstrips.
As a pilot, Hanselman agrees with MacNichol that backcountry flying ?can be very dangerous.? He said Idaho flying is a ?unique experience with scenic values. It?s a wonderful feeling to touch down on some incredible strips that people can?t find in other parts of the country.?
Owner of a Cessna 182 and an accomplished pilot with 3,000 hours, Hanselman nevertheless takes periodic instruction on getting into and out of risky small strips to polish his skills.
Some pilots, he said, have a personality trait of pushing themselves to the limit. ?You need to get near the flame, but don?t need to get burned,? Hanselman says metaphorically about taking chances in backcountry flying.
(To learn more about McCall Mountain Canyon Flying, visit www.mountaincanyonflying.com)
